Haircut
by DarkPlanet
Summary: Francis is a hairdresser trying to be a good single father. He hits it off with a customer, and the two grow closer over the course of several haircuts. A romance soon blooms between them, and each must choose to either pursue each other or stay in the safety of their current lives. (Rated M for dark themes and some talk about sex.)
1. Chapter 1

Street lights flickered on and painted the city in their glow. The light covered rows of outlets and restaurants, as well as a small hair salon occupied by one Francis Bonnefoy. Francis payed no attention to the lights. He'd already seen them come on countless times before, so any dazzle they once held was long gone. Besides, he had cleaning to do. He swept clumps of hair into one big pile while humming to himself. It wasn't his favorite part of the job, but he still felt strangely relaxed when he cleaned. Just as he started shoveling the pile into a trash can, the door swung open. A man with shaggy, blonde hair and bouquet of roses stepped up to the desk.

"I'll be with you in just a moment," Francis called. He dumped a last clump of hair into the trash and took his position behind the desk. "Do you have an appointment?" he asked. The customer shook his head.

"Is that alright?" he asked.

"Perfectly fine. There's no wait, anyways. Nobody really comes in this time of day. Now, what all are you looking for?" Francis said.

"A trim and a wash, please. Nothing fancy."

"Perfect. Step right this way." Francis made his way over to the back and grabbed a barber's gown. The customer set his roses on the desk and followed. Francis put the gown on him and lead him to a row of sinks. "You can have a seat right here, Sir," he said.

"Please, call me Arthur," the man said as he sat down.

"Very well, Arthur." Francis adjusted the chair so that Arthur's head was hovering just under the faucet. He turned on the water. "Let me know if it's too hot," he said. He put a bit of shampoo into his hands and started massaging Arthur's scalp. His hair was greasy, as if he hadn't showered in a few days, but Francis was barely bothered. With the movements of an expert, he lathered and rinsed Arthur's hair until it was clean. He dried it just enough so that he wasn't dripping, but not so much that his hair would be hard to work with. He directed him to a salon chair that faced a vanity. Francis reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors.

"How much do you want trimmed?" he asked.

"Just snip off the split ends and stuff," Arthur replied.

"Alright, then. Makes my job easy," Francis said with a soft chuckle. Arthur smiled a bit.

"Do you do many complex haircuts?" he asked. Francis shrugged.

"Sometimes I have to dye a certain way, but that's as hard as it gets around here. Not many people stop by at all, and most are just looking for a trim." He started to snip away at Arthur's locks with perfect precision. Arthur kept his eyes on the mirror and watched.

"That's too bad. You seem pretty good."

"Well, it's just a small place. Most people barely notice it. But, as long as I'm making enough to support my son, I'm happy."

"I know the feeling. My son, Alfred, is what keeps me going." Arthur had a sad sort of smile on his face as he spoke. "He can be a little bugger sometimes, though. Just last week he flushed my partner's watch down the toilet." Francis chuckled.

"Goodness, what a troublemaker. My Mathieu hasn't done anything like that, thank god."

"He'll grow into it, trust me. Alfred was so nice until he turned five." Francis shrugged.

"Whatever you say, but I think I know my own kid." Arthur opened his mouth to make a snappy reply, but then he remembered that Francis had scissors dangerously close to his neck. He decided to shift the conversation.

"So, is your kid in school yet?" he asked.

"He's in first grade right now. Oh, and he's doing so well! His handwriting is stelar."

"Really? Alfred's in second grade. His teacher says that he's reading at a third grade level." Francis just laughed and did his best to finish the haircut quickly. It was done soon enough. Arthur stood, took off the barber's gown, and thanked him.

"You did a fine job. I think my partner will be very pleased," he said as he made his way back to the desk.

"Yes, I'm sure she'll love it." Francis said. He glanced at the price chart and hit a few buttons on the cash register.

"He, actually. Now, how much do I owe you?" Francis grinned. It was always fun to meet another gay person, even if only for a moment.

"Fifteen dollars." Arthur fished out his wallet and handed over the cash.

"Have a nice day," he said. He grabbed his flowers and headed for the door. Francis waved to him as he left. He stood at the desk for a while after that, staring at the place where Arthur once stood. A warm feeling filled his stomach and chest as he thought of their little interactions. He wondered if Arthur lived nearby and if their paths would ever cross again. An alarm on his phone beeped and yanked him out of his thoughts. He sighed, turned off the alarm, and went back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Francis sat behind his desk with a magazine in hand and a strong desire to crawl back in bed. Nobody had come in all afternoon, and boredom was gnawing at his brain. He would have given anything to take the day off and make macaroni art with Matthieu, but he really needed the money. He barely had enough to pay the bills, and he needed to save up for Matthieu's upcoming birthday. So he flipped through his magazine and waited for someone, anyone, to come in.

His prayers were shortly answered as Arthur entered. He had a look of pure panic in his eyes as he said, "I need you to fix my hair. I don't care how much it costs, just fix it. I've got a very important presentation in three hours and nothing will tame this beast." His hair was wild and matted in the back. Francis almost didn't recognize him, but that wonderful English accent jogged his memory. He held back a chuckle.

"Oh, my. What sort of trouble did you get yourself into?" Francis asked.

"My kid decided to give me a makeover. With glue. I managed to get most of it out, but the damage is done." Francis set down his magazine and leaned over the desk. He felt a lock of Arthur's hair. The tips were crunchy and stiff between his fingers, but there was still some salvageable hair closer to his scalp.

"How short are you willing to go?"

"Anything but bald." Francis thought for a moment before running to the back of the salon and scanning his shelves of supplies. His eyes met a bottle of dish soap. Perfect. He snatched it up and showed it to Arthur.

"I think this is your best bet. We just rub it on, leave it in for an hour, and comb your hair." Arthur nodded and followed him to the sink.

"How do you know this stuff works?" he asked as he leaned his head under the faucet.

"I had to fix Matthieu's hair after some older kid poured a bottle of glue onto him at school. Nail polish remover works better, but I don't have any of that here. In fact, I only have dish soap because my sink upstairs got clogged and I had to do the dishes down here." Francis turned on the warm water and started to pour dish soap onto Arthur's hair. He made sure to cover all of the crusty parts. and he was extra gentle as he rubbed his scalp.

"Ah, so your apartment is just above the salon? That must be handy."

"It can be nice. But it does make the line between work and home a little blurry, you know?"

"I see. My apartment is above a cafe, so my main issue is buying pastries for breakfast all the time. That might not seem so bad, but my son has taken to calling me 'The Marshmallow Man,' and I'm pretty sure it's not because of my personality." Francis let out a short laugh. He rinsed off his hands and turned off the water.

"I have to say, I'm a little jealous. Matthieu calls me 'Papa,' and that's fine and all, but I feel like I'm missing out on some cute nicknames," Francis said. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Arthur's head so that all of his hair was covered. "You can stand up now, if you want," he said. Arthur stood up and glanced around the room.

"So, I guess I have an hour to kill. Got anything interesting to talk about?" said Arthur. Francis thought for a moment.

"Well… no, not really. The most exciting thing I've done all week was finishing a puzzle. Matthieu did the bulk of it with the babysitter, but I helped."

"You sure do talk about Matthieu a lot. You two must be close."

"I suppose so. He's my only real family, so my whole life kind of revolves around him." He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. "I mean, I'm either with him or I'm at work, so I've got a pretty limited amount of things to talk about."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes it feels like I'm just looping between date nights, work and Alfred. Hopefully this presentation will change that, though. I'm meant to get a raise if it goes well."

"I wish you the best of luck with that. Where do you work?"

"I'm on the marketing team for Snackrock. It's this little company that makes granola bars and trail mix. I mostly applied for the employee discount, but everyone there is really nice, and the job pays well." Francis nodded along but took in none of that information. He listened to Arthur blab on for another fifteen minutes about business and how his new advertising campaign would bring in so many customers. Finally, he just couldn't take it anymore. He had to change the subject, so he went with the first thing that came to mind.

"How are things with your partner?" he asked. Maybe it was a bit personal, but he desperately needed a break from work talk. Arthur kept silent for a moment. Francis was just about to tell him that he didn't have to answer, but Arthur spoke before he had the opportunity.

"It's alright, I guess. What about you? Got a special somebody in your life?" Francis shook his head.

"Ever since Matthieu came into my life, I haven't had the time to date."

"Ah, sorry. That… that must be hard."

"It can be, but I really am thankful to have Matthieu. He's just the sweetest little kid." Arthur smiled as thoughts of his own son came to mind.

"Yeah, I get it. Alfred might not be the most cooperative kid, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't love him with everything I have." Francis smiled. The pair chatted on for a while about their kids until Francis glanced down at his watch.

"Ah, it's already time to wash the soap out. Time sure does fly, huh?" Francis said. Arthur nodded and sat back down at the sink. He pulled off the towel and let Francis wash the dish soap out of his hair. Francis worked silently, much to Arthur's dismay. His hands were firm yet gentle so that he could get out all the soap without hurting his customer. It was almost like getting a massage. By the time he was finally done, Arthur had nearly melted.

"You, uh, really know your stuff. No other hair dresser I've been to made me this relaxed," Arthur said as Francis dried his hair.

"Well, I've had a lot of practice. Now, where did I put that comb…? Ah, here it is." Francis ran the comb through Arthur's still damp hair until all the glue had flaked away. "There we are! You look as good as new," he said as he turned Arthur's chair to face a mirror. Arthur looked himself over with a grin.

"Thank you so much. I have no idea how to repay you."

"Well, money works. Your total is twenty-five dollars."

"Oh, right. Here you go," Arthur said as he handed over a fifty dollar bill. "Keep the change," he added. Francis turned the bill over in his hand, staring at it in disbelief.

"I can't accept this. It's just too big of a tip," he said as he tried to hand it back. Arthur stood up and turned towards the door.

"No, you deserve it. Your prices are too cheap as it is, and I have cash to spare. Please, just take it." Francis hesitated a moment before pocketing the money.

"Alright, but your next trim is free." Arthur gave him a quick smile as he headed for the door.

"I'm looking forward to it," Arthur said softly. He paused in the doorway for a moment, his eyes locked with Francis's, before making his way to his car.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm home," Arthur called as he kicked off his shoes and shut the door. Immediately, Alfred bolted towards him. He wrapped his tiny arms around Arthur's leg while babbling about how much he missed him. Arthur patted his head and said, "I missed you, too. But I bet you got into all sorts of fun while I was stuck at work." Alfred pulled away from his leg. There was a huge grin on his face.

"Yeah, I did! This kid sat by me at lunch, and he had this big ol' brownie, but he wasn't even looking at it. He had his face stuffed in this crummy little-kid book. So I took the brownie, and it was real good." Alfred looked up at his dad expectantly. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Did you ask nicely first?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"You don't gotta ask if they aren't looking," Alfred replied.

"Sweetheart, that's stealing, and it's very rude. I want you to go apologize to that kid next time you see him, okay? Maybe bring one of my scones with you as an apology gift." Alfred huffed and folded his arms.

"I don't wanna. Plus, giving him one of your scones would be ruder." Arthur knelt down to be on the same eye-level as him. He tried to keep his face as calm as possible despite his irritation.

"Come on, you should do the right thing. Heros always apologize when they've been rude. Don't you want to be a hero?" Alfred thought for a moment. His eyes were wide with realization.

"I guess I'll say sorry, then. But I'm not giving him a scone!" Arthur chuckled and stood up.

"Fair enough. Though bringing him a treat is still a good idea. Maybe you could buy him something from the bakery, if you really want to be a hero."

"Maybe… I'll go count my money." Alfred wandered off to his room, leaving his father alone. Arthur let out a long sigh and pressed his fingers to his temples. That kid was a sweetheart, deep down, but he could really be a brat sometimes. He flopped down on the couch for a well-earned nap. Just as he closed his eyes, however, a hand touched his shoulder. He opened one eye back up to find Kiku staring down at him.

"Excuse me, I know you must be tired, but I need to speak with you," Kiku said. Arthur sat up with a groan. He stretched his arms over his head and leaned against the armrest.

"Alright, I can stay up for a few more minutes," he said.

"It's about date night. I'm afraid I won't be able to make it. My boss wants me to work late that night, and I could really use the money." Arthur sighed. That was the second date night in a row he would miss. "Perhaps we can reschedule it," Kiku suggested. Arthur waved his hand.

"No, no, it's fine. Plus, I'm pretty busy for the next week. Work and all that," Arthur said.

"Oh, I see." Kiku paused for a moment, his head lowered slightly. His hair fell over his face and covered his eyes. "How did that presentation go, by the way?" he asked.

"It went fine. Didn't get that raise, though."

"That's a shame. You've really been working hard lately." Arthur shrugged.

"Well, at least I have enough to pay the bills. That's all I really need."

"I suppose, but wouldn't a little extra be nice? You know, for next month and all." Arthur cocked his head.

"Next month? Am I forgetting something?" Kiku nodded slowly, his lips pursed. His face was still mostly covered by hair, but his composure was clearly off. Were those tears on his cheeks, or was it just a trick of the light? Arthur tried to ask if he was alright, but he was cut off by Kiku's shaking voice.

"So you did forget," Kiku said sharply.

"Forget what, exactly?"

"Our one year anniversary, Arthur. Do I really matter that little to you?" Arthur froze up, unsure of what to say. Kiku rarely got to be so emotional, but when he was upset, oh boy…

"It just slipped my mind for a minute, that's all. No need to get all worked up." He stood and put a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Did something else happen today? Is that what you're upset about?" Kiku turned his head to avoid Arthur's gaze, but he kept his shoulder still.

"N-nothing happened. I just- I just got upset, okay? I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Just let me know if you need anything." Arthur kissed his cheek. Kiku took in a long breath and held it. When he let it out, he seemed a lot calmer. He rubbed away his tears and turned for the bedroom.

"I'll leave you to your sleep, now. I've got laundry to take care of."

"Need any help with that?" Kiku shook his head.

"I'd rather do it alone." With that, Kiku slipped away. Arthur laid back down on the sofa, though he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Such a sour interaction would leave him worrying for at least an hour or two. He let his head sit atop the armrest as he stared up at the ceiling. Thoughts of every unpleasant conversation and squabble with Kiku came flooding into his head. So many came to mind that he began to wonder if there was an underlying cause to the tension. Maybe it was built up work stress, or maybe he got some bad news. It could have been any number of things, and yet Arthur found himself stuck on one thought: Kiku didn't want him. He shut his eyes tight. No matter how much he tried to shake the thought, he just couldn't move past it. The thought burrowed deep into his head and made his stomach sink. He heard Kiku talking in the other room. He listened in but heard only Japanese, a language he had heard time and time again but could not understand. He thought he heard sobbing between his words, but he chose to pretend that he didn't.

Kiku sat on the edge of the bed with a phone to his ear and a tissue in his fist. "I just don't know what to do," he said between sniffles. He spoke in rapid, sloppy Japanese that only a native speaker could understand. "I really don't want to hurt him, but this lying is eating me up inside."

"I think you need to either tell him right now, or keep quiet and never do it again. The choice is yours," said the voice on the other end. Kiku took in a deep breath.

"You're right. I think I'll keep it to myself. Another bit of drama might just break the whole relationship," he said.

"Alright. Just make certain that you really want to stay." Kiku ran the tissue over his damp cheeks and eyes. The tears had stopped flowing, but he still felt that dreadful sinking in his stomach.

"Right. Thank you, you've been a big help tonight," he said.

"That's what big sisters are for. Goodnight, Kiku."


	4. Chapter 4

A light flickered dimly in the corner of the salon. Francis moved his hand under the flashing glow. His movements were given a sort of strobe effect that would have been a lot more fun if he didn't have to change a idea of spending some of his little earnings hurt him a bit. Maybe he could get away with natural lighting for a bit. Any money he could save would be worth it. As he considered his options, he noticed a figure moving in the corner of his vision. He turned to find that it was Arthur standing out in the cold of the night. Francis's face lit up. He hurried to the front door and stepped outside.

"Need a trim already, mon ami? Surely your hair hasn't grown much in a week," he said. Arthur jolted in surprise before realizing where he was. He scratched his head, ruffling his already messy hair.

"Ah, no. I was just going for a walk to clear my head, and I ended up here," he replied.

"I see. You can still come inside and warm up, if you want. I'm closing soon, but I wouldn't be against staying open a little later to keep you from freezing." Arthur bit his lower lip. He glanced first at his watch, then at Francis. After a moment of thought, he nodded hesitantly and went inside. Francis watched him head straight for the sinks, as if by instinct.

"Can you give me a wash and dry real quick? I just need to relax, you know?" Arthur said. He sat down in his usual seat and leaned back. His hair dangled over the sink in greasy clumps.

"Seeing as you've already made yourself comfortable, sure." Francis grabbed the shampoo and got right to work. Arthur put up a weak smile that faded after only a few seconds. His gaze became distant, and he bit his lower lip gently. "Something on your mind?" Francis asked.

"It's just stupid relationship stuff. You wouldn't want to hear it." Francis shrugged.

"I'm all ears. I'm pretty good with those sorts of problems."

"Mm, I suppose talking it out would be good for me…" Arthur let himself relax a little. Maybe it was Francis's hands, or maybe it was the way he spoke that made Arthur feel so comfortable with him. "Sure, why not? I've got time. So basically, this bloke I'm dating has been quiet and collected ever since I met him, and now he's suddenly crying all the time and getting short with me. It's just not like him. Mind you, he hasn't been like this with anybody else. His buddies all say he's the same as ever. I know it's silly, but I can't help but feel that he doesn't love me anymore. I mean, why else would he be so off?" Francis thought for a moment, lips jutting out a bit and his eyebrows pushed together. He found a strange sinking feeling had rooted in his gut, as if he were reminiscing about a lost pet. This situation was all too familiar.

"That doesn't sound great. Perhaps you should talk it out with him. Who knows, maybe he does still have feelings for you." Arthur didn't seem too satisfied with this answer.

"I guess, but… I don't know. What would I even say?"

"Just tell him how you feel. Or, if you're not up for talking, just do something romantic to show that you still care about him. Something like a fancy dinner or a day out. There's always options."

"Dinner is a good idea. I'll just need a babysitter for Alfred." Francis perked up. He saw an opportunity for money, and he was not going to pass it up.

"I know a few good ones. Or I could babysit, if you don't mind me bringing Matthieu over. He needs more friends, and I need more money," he said with a chuckle. Arthur thought for a moment. Most babysitters couldn't stand Alfred, but Francis seemed to be good with kids. Plus, Matthieu sounded like a good influence.

"I suppose Alfred could use a buddy. Give me your number after we're done with this, alright? Even if I don't end up needing a sitter, I think some playdates would be useful."

"I'd be happy to." With that, the conversation trailed off. Francis, not knowing what the talk about, focused on his work. Soapy bubbles swirled down the drain and popped under the stream of water. He watched them as he worked his hands through Arthur's scalp. He kept at it until every bubble and blob of shampoo was gone. That minute of silent work was bliss for him, and he hoped that Arthur was feeling similarly.

Arthur waited through that minute in a state of nervous confusion. His heart pounded and his palms were sweaty, but he had no idea why. It was just a simple wash, so why did it feel so…? He told himself that he was just worried about Kiku, bit he knew that wasn't it. He had been feeling sad and empty before he saw Francis, not jumpy. There was no reason for his mood to so suddenly change. Unless, god forbid, he was actually developing feelings for that french hairdresser. No, that couldn't be it. He had a partner, and Francis was probably straight. Probably. Come to think of it, he really didn't know. He wasn't a homophobe, at the very least, but his sexuality was a mystery. Francis did look and act a bit feminine, but that wasn't enough to prove anything. Arthur tapped his foot against the tile. This was really bugging him now. He supposed he could just ask, but that might come off as rude. The question persisted, prodding at his brain and making it hard to calm down. At last, the urge to ask became too much.

"Are you gay?" he blurted. Francis abruptly stopped moving. Shit. "Uh, I mean, if you're comfortable answering," Arthur added. His face was deep red, and he was already thinking of just bolting away to avoid further embarrassment. Francis broke away and make a sound like a hissing tire. Arthur looked up at him. Francis hand his hand over his mouth, his eyes locked on Arthur's. His chest was shaking with silent giggles, and his golden curls dangled down from his face. Finally, he burst into full laughter. Arthur felt more embarrassed than ever, but the sight of Francis's face was enough to keep him from being too distressed. Those blue eyes swimming in joyful tears were beautiful enough to kill for. Francis took his hand away from his mouth and drew a deep breath.

"Ah, sorry, sorry. I just thought it was kind of obvious, non?" Francis said as his laughter had faded away. "Yes, I'm gay. Incredibly so." Arthur laughed and sat up. His cheeks were still pink with embarrassment, but at least his question was answered. Francis switched off the water and started to towel Arthur off.

"Always nice to meet another gay person," Arthur said.

"Indeed. I must admit, I was a little excited when you told me you had a boyfriend." Francis lead him over to another chair and got out a blowdryer. Arthur shook his head.

"Ah, that won't be necessary. It's dry enough. Besides, you have a son to get some to. I ought to get out of your hair." Francis set down the dryer with an almost upset look.

"Alright, but do come back soon." Arthur nodded and fished a ten dollar bill from his pocket. He handed it over.

"Here you are." Francis took it, though there was hesitation in his movements.

"You don't have to pay. I told you your next trim would be free."

"This wasn't a trim, though."

"Touché." Francis gave Arthur a grin and took out his phone. "Now, may I have your number?"

"What? Oh, uh, right. That." Arthur fumbled for his phone and traded numbers with Francis. Once that was done, he headed for the door.

"See ya around," he said.

"See you," Francis replied with a wave.

Arthur exited into the bitter cold of the night with damp hair and a fluttering heart. The image of Francis's laughing face was still fresh in his mind. A slight smile touched his face. He pulled his jacket tight around his body and headed home.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur stood in the doorway of the bedroom and watched Kiku sweep. The setting sun was the room's only light, causing the white walls to adopt an orange glow. Kiku's apron glowed in the same way, though he didn't seem to notice. He swept the same spot over and over while staring off into space. The rhythm of his breathing and the broom hitting the floor was almost relaxing, but the look on Kiku's face dulled the effect. Arthur looked down at the palm-sized box in his hand. It probably wasn't the right time for a gift, but he needed to save his relationship quickly. There wasn't time to waste. So, after a moment of hesitation, he took his partner by the shoulder. Kiku flinched, but didn't face him.

"Is there something you want?" Kiku asked.

"I've got a little gift for you, love," Arthur replied. Kiku seemed to perk up a bit at those words.

"Ah, you really didn't need to. I didn't get you anything, after all," he said as leaned broom against the wall and faced Arthur. Arthur pressed the box into his hand with a nervous grin.

"I'm sure you can get me something later, if you feel that badly. Now, open it." Kiku picked off the tape and wrapping paper to find a ring box. He examined its velvety exterior for a minute, his face totally unreadable. A logo for an expensive jewelry store was printed at the top. Kiku knew that store; it was the one with the rows of engagement rings. His face took up a look of shock, then horror. He started to shake his head, his eyes locked on Arthur's.

"No… no, you can't. _We_ can't." He pushed the box into Arthur's chest.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not ready, Arthur. Not for marriage. It's just too much too soon." Arthur paused for a moment to wrap his head around those words. His surprise shifted into irritation, and he found himself making a fist around the box.

"Marriage? Are you out of your mind? Did you really think I'd be so careless as to propose to you at a time like this, without even consulting you first?" Arthur's voice got louder the longer he spoke, but he didn't shout. Kiku looked away.

"But the box- it's for a ring."

"It's a goddamn charm. For that bracelet your sister gave you. See?" Arthur popped open the box and proved his words true. The charm was two golden hearts with 'my love' etched onto them. It was cheesy as all hell, just as he said, but exactly the kind of thing Kiku would love. But instead of being relieved at the sight, Kiku only got irritated.

"How was I meant to know that? You came in out of nowhere, gave me a box from that expensive store and expected me to think nothing of it. Even you must see how this looks," he said.

"No, don't go turning this on me. All I did was get you a gift. You're the one who made presumptions." Kiku grabbed the broom, turned his back to Arthur, and started sweeping. His movements were jerky, rushed, and ultimately useless. "Don't just ignore me," Arthur said. Still, Kiku swept without a word. The broom scraped against the floor to make a terrible, repetitive sound. As the seconds passed and Kiku's sweeping grew faster, the noise got louder. Arthur clenched his fists. "At least stop making that dreadful noise while you're ignoring me." Kiku whipped around. Tears streamed down his face, and his hands trembled.

"Take a hint," he said. Arthur took a step backwards. His anger started to cool.

"Kiku, I-"

"No. I'm not having any of that. Just take the hint." Arthur swallowed hard. He wasn't about to disobey a command like that. He tossed the charm onto the bed in a last move of irritation and slipped out the bedroom door. For a moment, he lingered outside the door and listened as Kiku began to sob. Regret started to seep into his thoughts, and he almost went back to comfort his partner. But he ultimately decided against it, partially because he didn't want to make him madder, and partially because he wouldn't have known what to say. What was the use in throwing more words at a man who wouldn't listen, anyways? Arthur wandered towards the kitchen. He needed a drink.

Alfred's room illuminated only by a handful of glow-in-the-dark star stickers. The cold of the night was just starting to settle in, but the bed's warmth kept it at bay. Alfred pressed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes, listening to Arthur hum beside him. The tune was slow and out of tune, but it's familiar notes still held a sort of power. Arthur pulled the blanket up to Alfred's chin as the song drew to a close. Alfred looked up at his father, his eyes partially visible under the pale green light. He still looked wide awake.

"Hey, Marshmallow?" he asked in a loud, squeaky voice.

"What is it, darling?" Arthur asked back.

"I heard you and Kiku fighting. Is he mad at you again?" Shit, Alfred heard that? Arthur chuckled half-heartedly to keep up the facade of being okay.

"Don't worry yourself about that. It's grown up stuff." He fluffed up Alfred's hair and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Still, the kid didn't look too satisfied.

"Dad, do you and Kiku still like each other?" Arthur froze for a second. Alfred hardly ever called him 'Dad.' In any other context, it might have been nice to hear. Arthur wanted to reassure his son that everything was fine, that he and Kiku were as close as ever, but he hated lying like that.

"I'll, uh, have to talk with Kiku about that. Goodnight, sweetheart." He stood up and left the room before Alfred could say anything more. He swung the door shut behind him and let out a long, heavy sigh. It was nowhere close to the time he normally fell asleep, yet he felt entirely drained. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He focused on his breathing, letting himself drown in the repetitive noise. Nothing existed except for him and the sound. He sat like that and recharged for several minutes. When he opened his eyes again, a small burst of energy lit up inside him.

It took him a minute to comprehend what was going on around him. He noticed the smell of dish soap and heard what he assumed to be Kiku shuffling around in the kitchen. He crept down the hall and poked his head into the kitchen. Sure enough, Kiku was hunched over the counter, scrubbing dishes. He watched him work for a minute, contemplating what to do next. Well, now was as good a time as any to try and set things right. He didn't want to spend another night on the couch, after all. Arthur snuck up behind Kiku and put his arms around his waist. "I'm sorry about earlier. I really should have thought things through more," he said. "Is there any way I can make it up to you?" He placed a kiss on the back of Kiku's neck. Kiku flinched away and sunk his plate back into the soapy water. He rested his pruning hands on the edge of the counter.

"Why are you still here, Arthur? Why do you stay with me? You have every right to move out, and yet here you are," he said. Arthur loosened his grip on his waist.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. He found himself holding his breath as he waited for an answer. Kiku stared into the water with empty eyes.

"I don't know. I really don't. I don't even know how I feel about you." Arthur let go of him entirely and took a step backwards. That familiar exhaustion took him over again. All he wanted was to go to sleep and let his problems drift away like a fuzzy dream.

"I'm going to bed. Do you want me on the couch again tonight?" he said. Kiku turned around and looked him right in the eyes. His face was near expressionless, but it said so much that Arthur felt his stomach churn.

"You can't just sleep away the issue. We need to talk about this," Kiku insisted. Arthur looked at his feet. He fought to keep his emotions under control as he spoke, but everything still came flooding out.

"What is there to talk about? It's clearly over between us. You don't love me. I know it, you know it, even Alfred knows it. What more can we say?" Tears dotted Kiku's eyes. His lower lip trembled, so he bit it. Still, he kept his back straight and hands clasped to give off an air of dignity.

"Do you still love me?" he asked. Arthur shifted nervously. He tried to think of a good answer that would return everything to normal, but all that came to mind was a single word.

"No." Complete silence followed. The two barely breathed as seconds ticked by. Everything seemed frozen in that moment of clear chaos. Arthur was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, that was-" Kiku held up his hand to silence him.

"No, don't apologize. You have every right to stop loving me."

"What do you mean by that?" Kiku stared down at his feet. His cheeks and ears grew red hot with shame. His hands were visibly shaking as he clenched them into fists.

"I… I slept with someone else. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyways," he confessed. He had hesitation in his voice, yet his relief shone through his shame. Arthur stood in silence for a moment, his mind blank. He knew he should feel outraged or heartbroken, but he somehow didn't. Instead, he just felt numb. He stared blankly at Kiku for a moment as he put together what to do next. Sleep was the only thing he wanted, but it wouldn't feel right to stay in Kiku's home any longer. Maybe he could crash at a friend's place, or get a hotel room. Yeah, that would do.

"I'll get packing, then," Arthur said. He paused for only a brief moment before heading for his bedroom. Kiku made a move to follow him, but stopped himself. There was nothing more to be done. As Arthur fished his dusty suitcase from the closet, he heard faint sobs from the kitchen, but didn't even stop to listen.


	6. Chapter 6

A few soft dings came from a phone sitting atop the side table. Francis murmured softly, cursing himself for not putting it on silent. Whoever was texting could wait until morning; he had sleeping to do. He'd only been in bed for a half hour at most, but it felt like years. Bills sat heavy in his thoughts to keep him from resting, no matter how hard he tried. Another buzz broke the silence. He rolled onto his side and felt around for his phone. The cool touch of glass against his fingertips brought him out of his sleepy haze, and he opened one eye to check his texts.

Five messages from Arthur appeared on his screen, each more concerning than the last.

" _Hey, Francis, it's Arthur. I could use a hand."_

" _I know it's sudden, but I need a place to sleep."_

" _All the hotels nearby are full, and I really need to talk with somebody."_

" _You're the only contact I have who isn't a co worker or relative. I'll pay, if you want."_

" _Alfred's with me. We really need somewhere to stay."_

Francis rubbed his eyes. Surely he must have misread that. But, no, his eyes weren't tricking him. Was Arthur in danger? Was he hurt? What about Alfred; was he okay? After a moment of panic, he got the sense to type a response.

" _Come right over. I'm in apartment 209."_

A thank-you text from Arthur came seconds later. Francis set his phone aside and started getting dressed. He shed his pajamas, only to find that it was too cold to go without. The apartment's heating wasn't the best. Come to think of it, nothing was alright in that place. The floors creaked, the shower leaked, and the couch was falling apart. Francis winced at the idea of Arthur seeing this mess, but he couldn't back out of his offer now. He pulled on some yoga pants and a plain t-shirt. It was the most casual outfit he owned, and he rarely wore it in public, but it would do.

He left the bedroom and started to tidy up whatever he could. There wasn't much to be done that didn't require hours of scrubbing, but he tried his best. Just as he'd started to sweep up, he heard a knock at the door. He leaned the broom against the wall, combed his hands through his hair, and opened the door. Arthur stood on the doormat with Alfred and three suitcases by his side.

"Hello, Arthur. Come right on in, make yourself at home," Francis said. Arthur nodded and stepped inside, pulling Alfred along by the arm. The poor kid's eyes were puffed up and red, and dried tears streaked his cheeks. Francis smiled down at him. "You must be Alfred. It's nice to finally meet you," he said. Alfred wiped his nose off on the sleeve of his pajamas.

"Y-you're Francis, yeah?" he muttered.

"That's me."

"You got any candy?" Francis laughed and gave Arthur a look.

"Only if it's alright with your father," he said. Arthur mustered up a small smile.

"You can have one sweet before bed, but you'll have to brush your teeth again afterwards," he said. Alfred nodded eagerly and promised to brush his teeth better than he ever had before. Francis headed for his kitchen counter where a ceramic jar sat. He lifted its lid and pulled out a homemade chocolate-chip cookie. He held it out for Alfred.

"Here you go, dear. My son and I made them from scratch," he said. Alfred statched it up and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. A wide grin broke out on his face. He chewed with his mouth open, causing Arthur to frown.

"Alfred, what have I told you about manners?" Alfred gulped down the rest of the cookie.

"Oh, sorry. Thanks, cookie guy." Francis chuckled while Arthur just rolled his eyes.

"Alright, you've had your sweets. Now get your toothbrush and clean up." Alfred fumbled with the suitcase until he found a little bag of toiletries.

"Where's the toilet?" he asked. Francis gestured to the hallway.

"It's the first door on the right," he said. Alfred thanked him and toddled off. Francis waited for the click of the bathroom door closing before turning to Arthur.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his face taking up a look of concern. "Did something happen? Is anyone hurt?" Arthur looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. His throat felt tight.

"Nobody's hurt. I just… I just broke it off with my partner, that's all. Nothing to worry about," he insisted.

"Nothing to worry about? Arthur, you've just gotten out of a relationship. It's alright to be upset about it," Francis said. Arthur bit his lip. Tears started to pool in his eyes. "I'm here if you need to talk. Or I can leave, if you want that," Francis added. Arthur took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and promptly burst into tears. He lunged towards Francis. His arms wrapped firmly around his chest, and he buried his face in his shoulder. Tears soaked Francis's sleeve. Francis was startled at first, but he soon snapped out of it and hugged Arthur back. He patted his back lightly to comfort him.

"I-It's not bloody fair," the brit said between sobs. "I gave that man my trust, and he- he turns around and cheats on me! It's just not right." Francis held him tighter.

"He sounds like a piece of shit." Arthur choked out something like a laugh. He took in a shaking breath and pulled away from Francis. His face was totally red, and snot dripped from his nose. Francis couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He'd been in his same position a while back, and he knew it hurt like hell.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," Arthur said. Francis waved his hand dismissively.

"Nonsense. Friends should always be there for one another, non?" Arthur nodded without looking up from his feet. Francis gave him a warm smile. "Now, let's talk about the lodging situation. Alfred can sleep in Matthieu's room, if that's alright with you. And you, my dear, can sleep on the couch. Is that alright?" he said. Arthur glanced at him, letting their eyes meet.

"If it's all the same with you, I'd rather not sleep alone. Do you mind if I, er, room with you?" he asked.

"That's fine by me. Besides, the couch is too lumpy for a good night's rest," Francis replied cheerfully. The only person he'd shared a room with for the past few months was his son, so this was a welcome change. "Do you need any help unpacking?" Arthur shook his head.

"No, I got it. I should probably be checking on Alfred about now, come to think of it. I hope he didn't fall in the toilet again." Francis gave him a grin that was promptly broken by a yawn. He stretched his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up. Arthur took note of his the faint outline of muscles on his stomach. A trail of brown hairs lead from his belly button to his pants. He had to admit, Francis didn't look half bad. Francis shot him a smirk.

"If you're done staring, I think I'll head off to bed," he said. Arthur looked away.

"Ah, I was just- It wasn't-" he stammered. Francis just laughed and headed for the bedroom.

"Goodnight, mon cher." He gave a little wave before shutting the bedroom door behind him, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7 (Mini Chapter)

Matthieu let out a yelp as unfamiliar hands shook him awake. Fearing the worst, he went into panic mode. He jolted out out bed and sprinted for the door as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. The stranger grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. Matthieu squirmed and wriggled, but the stranger's grip was too tight to break. "H-help, Papa!" he cried.

"Shush up! The adults are gonna hear," said whoever had grabbed him. He sounded like a child. Matthieu stopped flailing and stood perfectly still. "Thanks. Now, listen up! I'm Alfred, and I don't like sleeping on the floor. So you're gonna share your bed, okay?"

"Okay," Matthieu whispered. Alfred let go of his wrist and flopped down on the bed. He wrapped himself in the blanket and buried his face into the pillow. Matthieu reluctantly laid down next to him. He grabbed the end of his blanket, only to have it yanked away when Alfred rolled over. "C-can I please have some blanket?" he asked. Alfred lifted up his head.

"I want it," he said simply.

"B-but I said please!" Alfred thought for a moment.

"Okay, then we can split it." He wriggled up close to Matthieu and flung a section of the blanket over him. "There. Now shush up so I can sleep," he said. He shut his eyes and was sound asleep in a matter of minutes. His snores filled the room. Matthieu pulled the blanket over his head and held his hands over his ears, but it still wasn't enough to block out the sound. He groaned and sat up. Slowly, he reached over and closed Alfred's mouth with two fingers. Alfred stirred, threatening to wake up. Matthew held his breath, letting it out only when Alfred's movements stopped. Thank goodness. Matthew burrowed under the covers again and drifted to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Francis was nearly dead asleep minutes after getting into bed. Light flooded from the hall and washed over the bed. Francis murmured as he awoke and rolled onto his side. He blinked one eye open to find Arthur standing in the doorway. The brit wore a t-shirt depicting the logo of some punk band. His sweatpants were baggy enough to nearly cover his feet. His eyes were soft and his arms hung heavy at his side. Francis felt bad for thinking it at a time like this, but Arthur was pretty attractive. Ah, if only the circumstances were different. Francis let out a soft sigh and sat up.

"Ah, sorry to wake you," Arthur said. "But I can't find any extra blankets."

"I'm afraid they're all in Matthieu's room at the moment. That poor boy gets cold so easily," Francis explained.

"Oh, I see." Arthur thought for a moment. "I'll just use some towels, then."

"No guest of mine is sleeping under a towel." Francis winced at the thought. "Come, you'll sleep in my bed tonight. It's much warmer." Arthur glanced around nervously. Sharing a bed with somebody else so soon after a breakup seemed sleazy, even if he would only be sleeping. Still, the mattress was more comfortable than the bedroom floor. He shut the door carefully so as not to wake the kids before laying down. His body threatened to fall off the side as he inched as far from Francis as he could manage.

"No need to be so stiff, mon ami. We're friends, non?" Francis coaxed. Arthur glanced at him through the dark. He held his breath for a moment before scooching towards the bed's center.

"How's that?" he asked with a bit of sourness in his voice.

"That's better," Francis replied. He snuggled up to the other man, placing his head in the crook of his neck. Arthur pushed him away.

"Cut that out. I'm not a cuddler." Francis sighed and turned away from him.

"Fine. But don't be afraid to change your mind." Arthur grunted and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. The warmth of Francis's body heat collecting under the covers lulled him to a sense of security. He closed his eyes and let his mouth hang open as he relaxed. Fuzzy thoughts of the day's events passed through his mind, but he brushed them away as best he could. It was a time for sleep, not self-pity. He could feel bad later. Still, a feeling of loneliness lingered inside him, preventing him from sleeping. Part of him wished he could sleep beside Kiku one last time. He wanted to bury his face in Kiku's chest and just relax with him. But that could never happen. There was no way he could stay with somebody who betrayed his trust like that, even if that meant being alone. He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. All these thoughts had pushed away any chance of a peaceful night's sleep. No matter what he did, all he could think about was how stupid and alone he was. He rolled onto his side, pulling the blanket with him.

"You're starting to make me regret my choices, Mon ami," Francis joked. Arthur poked his head out from under the covers. He had almost entirely forgotten that he was sharing a bed with somebody. After his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw what the issue was. The blanket was bunched up around him, leaving Francis with nothing.

"Ah, sorry," he muttered. He sat up and undid the mess he made.

"Don't worry about it. Just try not to do it again, okay?" Arthur nodded and settled back down to rest. This time, he laid down facing Francis. Having the frenchman in his sight was a treat to Arthur, as well as a reminder that he wasn't totally alone. Not yet, at least. There was still one person who liked Arthur enough to share a bed with him, and that fact was deeply treasured. Arthur curled his fingers into a loose fist. He felt that he had to repay Francis, but he had no idea how to do it. A simple 'thanks' wouldn't be enough, and nothing he could be would truly convey his feelings. He looked Francis over as he thought. Though small details were lost to the darkness, his friend's good looks were apparent. The gentle curves of his neck and back, the way his golden locks spread out over the pillow, and even the rise and fall of his chest were all magnificent. Arthur reached out subconsciously and touched his arm. His skin was as soft and warm as a blanket fresh from the dryer. Perhaps cuddling wouldn't be such a bad thing, after all. Cautiously, Arthur inched closer. He hooked one arm around Francis's chest and rested his cheek against his shoulder. He curled his body around the other man's side and closed his eyes. It was much warmer when they were so close to each other. Maybe it was a bit odd, but Arthur couldn't have felt more comfortable.

A smile spread across Francis's face. He turned onto his side so that his and Arthur's faces were but an inch apart. Arthur's heart rate picked up. "What are you-?" he started. His words were quickly cut off when Francis's gentle lips met his cheek.

"Thank you," was all the hairdresser said before he fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur woke up to the sound of a door creaking shut. The space beside him was empty, and the only light was a sliver of sunrise peeking through the blinds. He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. No way was he getting up this early, especially after everything that happened the day before. He couldn't recall if he had work, but he would just call in sick if he did.

It was already noon when Arthur finally decided to crawl out of bed. The cold air caused goose bumps to rise on his arms, and he considered going back to bed again. But without Francis, the bed was only a cold reminder of his own flaws. He stretched his arms over his head and let out a long yawn. His mouth was dry and his stomach was growling. Maybe he would take Alfred out for breakfast. It had been a while since he'd gone out and done something with his son. Before he could commit to the idea, the familiar sound of his ringtone began to play. He instinctively reached into his pocket, only to find that it was empty. A quick glance around the room made it clear that he'd left his phone out somewhere. He groaned as he stood up. That damn thing's battery was probably drained. He left the bedroom and immediately spotted it resting on the dining table. It was plugged in, thank god, and a sticky note sat on its surface. Just as he snatched it up, it stopped ringing. He cursed under his breath and peeled off the sticky note. He glanced at it, noticing the neatness of the cursive writing. Francis must have written it.

 _I'm off to work. There's leftover breakfast on the counter in case you get hungry. I'm leaving Matthieu with you today. He can have one treat and one hour of screen time while I'm gone._

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. Taking care of two kids by himself was not going to be fun, but he supposed it was fair under the circumstances. He then turned his attention to his phone. A single message sat on the home screen. Immediately after reading it, Arthur felt sick to his stomach.

 _Missed call from Kiku Honda_

That couldn't be right. It had to be some sort of mistake. He probably meant to call somebody else, or maybe Arthur left something at the apartment. Still, he wanted to return the call badly enough that it hurt to put down the phone. His hands began to shake, and his already churning stomach began threatening to empty itself. His heart was screaming at him to call Kiku back, but his brain was berating him just as loudly for having such a desire. Before he could do anything drastic, however, Alfred came bolting down the hall.

"Look, look! I made a friend," Alfred said. He latched onto Arthur's leg and stared up at him. His eyes were wide with excitement.

"Oh, really? Can I meet this new friend?" Arthur asked with a forced smile. He loved Alfred to pieces, but that kid always came in at the worst times. Alfred nodded, letting his tangled mess of hair fall over his eyes.

"Mattie, get over here!" The bedroom door creaked open. Matthieu peeked his head out and clutched his teddy bear closer to his chest. Alfred came over and pulled him into the kitchen. "This is Mattie. He's kinda quiet, but he's pretty cool," Alfred said. Matthieu smiled nervously. He waved with one hand while keeping and iron grip on his teddy with the other. Arthur waved back.

"Hey there. I'm Arthur, and I'm one of your dad's friends. It's nice to meet you," he said.

"Papa told me about you," Matthieu said. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor. "He said you were gonna live with us."

"Don't worry, I'll only be here for a little while," Arthur replied.

"Oh. Okay then," Matthieu said. He was about to say something more when Alfred butted in.

"Aw, C'mon! Can't we just stay here forever? There'd good food, and Francis is super nice," Alfred said. He let go of Matthieu's hand and started clinging onto Arthur's leg.

"It would be rude of us to move in so fast. Besides, you can't have your own room if we stay here," reasoned Arthur. Matthieu looked up at him. He gripped his bear with both hands and pulled it tighter to his chest.

"I wouldn't mind if you stayed," he said, his voice too hushed to be heard.

Francis came home late that night. The kids had already gone to bed, though the sounds coming from their shared room indicated that they were doing more talking than sleeping. Arthur was launched on the couch with his needlework. He pushed the needle in and out of the canvase until he'd made the rough shape of a flower. It was different from the pattern he went by, but it didn't matter much. Francis watched him from the doorway. A smile snuck across his face. Arthur looked up to meet his eyes.

"Do you always come home this late?" he asked. Francis let out a short burst of laughter and sat down beside him. He kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the couch.

"A simple 'hello' would have been fine. But, no, I'm usually home by five thirty. I've been staying a bit late for the past week so that I can get a bit of maintenance done. But, if you want me home sooner, I could go back to my normal schedule."

"No, it's fine. Though it would be nice to have some help getting the kids to bed. Matthieu's fine, but Alfred squirted out half his toothpaste into the sink. I made him clean it up, don't worry." Francis smiled and put his hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Thank you, dear. I love a man who doubles as a free babysitter." Arthur turned his head to hide a grin.

"Who said I was free?" he said. "No, I'm only joking. Even if I did want compensation, you've already done quite enough for me."

"Speaking of, how long to you plan to stay?" Arthur glanced at him.

"Why? Do you want me to leave?"

"Non, I was simply wondering. Hell, you can stay as long as you want, provided that you take care of the kids when I'm out."

"Well, I was hoping to find an apartment and move out within the month. But I couldn't find a place online that would work well, and the lead time would be a while. I might have to pick up some extra hours to get a better place, but that would take some of my searching time, so… I might be here for a long while." Francis leaned up against him and let out a yawn.

"Mm, well, don't feel rushed. You're good company, and you can pay me in chores." He rested his head in the crook of Arthur's neck. He felt Arthur's skin grow hot with embarrassment. It was probably wrong, but he loved the feeling of having Arthur so close to him. His heart begged for him to make a move, but his rational mind managed to keep things tame. "I have been wanting a roommate, and Matthieu needs a friend," he said softly. Arthur sighed.

"I'll take that into consideration. But I think I ought to get an air mattress either way." Francis sat up, breaking away from Arthur.

"Awe, c'mon. There's room for both of us in my bed. There's no need to bring your own."

"I just don't want anybody to get the wrong idea. That's all."

"Who's going to notice? Only the kids would know, and they're too young to think it's dirty." Arthur sat in silence for a moment. He tapped his foot against the floor and stared off into space.

"I… I have some feelings I need to sort out. And I need some space so that I can sort them properly. I'm sorry." Francis stood up.

"No need to apologize, mon ami. Just know that I'm here if you need help, alright?" He patted Arthur's shoulder and slipped down the hall.


	10. Chapter 10

"Get up! Get up, get up, get up! C'mon, you big sleepyhead. Up!" Alfred yelled as he repeatedly beat Arthur's chest. Arthur groaned and waved him away. The couch creaked under him as he shifted into a more comfortable position. Alfred huffed and turned to Matthieu. "Alright, time for the big guns," he said. He took a few steps back and grabbed Matthieu by the wrist. Matthieu dropped his bear, letting it rest on the ground beside him. His eyes were wide and his lip trembled as if he were about to cry.

"I don't t-think this is a good idea," he said.

"It'll be fine. You aim for his legs, and I'll get his tummy. Okay?" Matthieu hesitated for a moment before nodding. Alfred let go of him and got into a starting stance. "We'll jump at three. One…" he said. Matthieu tried to copy his pose. "Two…" He took a deep breath and held it. "Three!" Alfred leapt forward and slammed straight into Arthur's chest. Matthieu remained frozen in place, too scared to jump after him.

"Alfred, how many times have I told you not to do that? Besides, Francis is still trying to sleep," Arthur said.

"Um, actually, he left for work already," Matthieu replied.

"Oh. Still, let's try to keep the noise level down," Arthur said as he stretched his arms over his head. Alfred nodded and rolled off the couch.

"I want a big pb&j for lunch with extra crunchy peanut butter and pringles in the middle. Oh, and I want a soda. A big one, like at the movies!" he said. Arthur sat up and rubbed his eyes. Was it lunchtime already? He checked his phone. Sure enough, it was nearly two in the afternoon.

"How about this: let me get dressed, and then I'll take you both to the grocery store. You can pick something for lunch there," he said. Matthieu nodded and toddled off to get his shoes. Alfred grinned. He started jumping around and yelling about all the things he wanted to buy. Arthur patted his head. "You'll get more snacks if you're quiet," he said. Alfred nodded and pressed his pointer finger over his lips. "Good. Now, get your shoes on," Arthur said as he went to find his wallet. Alfred nodded again and krept over to the door. He pulled on a tiny pair of sneakers that were sitting on the shoe rack. He fiddled with the laces for a solid few minutes before finally managing to make a loose knot.

"I'm ready," he whispered.

"Hold on," Matthieu said. He grabbed his teddy bear off the floor and dusted it off with his hand. "There. Now I'm ready." Arthur pulled on his jacket.

"No time to waste, then. Let's go," he said. He held open the door for the kids and made certain to lock it behind them.

It was just after seven when Francis decided to close the Salon for the night. He'd had a busy day for once, and he was ready to spend some time relaxing on the couch. But he knew that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Dinner needed to be made, Mathieu needed a bath, the dishes needed to be done, and the whole apartment could use a cleaning. He brushed back his hair with a sigh. It was then that he realized that, while in a state of exhaustion, he'd walk right past his door. He shook his head and sighed again. Maybe he could get Arthur to do some of the cleaning and go to bed early. He turned around and got to the right place. When he walked in, the whole place was nearly spotless. The table was set for one, and the smell of freshly cooked bacon filled the apartment. The dishwasher was running, and the drying rack was empty. Francis shut the door behind him and leaned against it. He stood there silently for a few minutes and wondered if he was dreaming. His brain was so jumbled with thoughts that he didn't notice Arthur staring at him. Arthur came over and tapped him on the shoulder, breaking the trance.

"You alright?" he asked. Francis looked up at him and smiled.

"Oh, I'm doing wonderfully. Thank you so much," he said. He pulled Arthur into a hug.

"It's not that big a deal. Matthieu wanted pancakes, so I figured I would make breakfast for dinner. I made some extra for you, if you're interested." Arthur broke the embrace, only to be pulled back with a kiss on the cheek.

"I'd love that," Francis said. His voice was hushed and his gaze was soft. Uncomfortably soft. Arthur blushed and pulled away again, this time rushing over to the stove before Francis could go after him. He turned off the oven and pulled out a stack of pancakes and a few strips of bacon.

"Here we are. I kept them nice and warm for you." He set the leftovers on the table and took a seat. Francis sat across from him and dug in. The pancakes were a bit burnt, but he was tired enough that he didn't really care. It was the bacon that really made his stomach churn. Despite the pleasant smell, the taste and texture were both terrible. He swallowed and set the half-eaten strip down. Arthur glanced at him. "Good, right?" he said.

"The pancakes are lovely. I'm not really a bacon person, but I admire the gesture," Francis lied. He wiped his face with a napkin and got up to put the rest of his meal in the garbage.

"Uh, before you go, could I have a word with you?" Arthur asked. Francis put his plate in the sink and sat back down.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing, really. I just need a bit of advice. I got a call from Kiku, and It's been on my mind lately."

"What did he say?"

"Well, I didn't answer it, and he didn't leave a message. He might have just hit a wrong button or something, but I can't help but feel like I should call back." Francis sighed.

"Well, I can't stop you, but remember that you split for a reason. If he wants to get back together, make sure to give it a lot of thought." Arthur nodded.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." He stood up. "I think I'll go for a walk. Just to clear my head, you know?"

"Alright. I'll probably be asleep when you get back," Francis said as he headed towards the bathroom. They exchanged a quick goodbye before Arthur left the apartment and walked around to the back of the building. He leaned against the wall and took his phone from his pocket. After a bit of hesitation, he called Kiku's number. He held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Kiku said. His voice sounded a bit shaky, though that may have been Arthur's imagination.

"Hey, Kiku. I was just returning your call. I know it's been a while but…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"I understand. Look, I'll get right to the point. I miss you. I made an unforgivable mistake, I know, but believe me when I say that it will never happen again. Arthur bit his lower lip. "I'll do anything if it means you'll stay with me. We don't have to live together anymore, we could take a break and come back, or whatever you want," Kiku added.

"No. I've been thinking a lot, and… I don't think the whole cheating thing was our only problem. We've been growing apart lately, and, to be honest, I-" Arthur hesitated for a moment. "I don't think it would have worked out, anyways. I'm sorry." A long stretch of silence followed. Arthur could hear only the beating of his own heart as he waited for some sport of response. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

"R-right. I'll leave you alone. Goodbye, Arthur," Kiku said. He sounded like he was choking back sobs. Before Arthur could say a word, the call ended. Arthur took in a long breath. He held it for what felt like an eternity, trying his hardest to stop himself from crying. As soon as he let his mouth open, he began to sob. He held his hand to his forehead as tears ran down his face and neck. It was finally over. He would probably never see Kiku again, and if he did, they would act like strangers. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. Somehow, despite the situation, he felt a rush of relief. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness was still crushing, but he at least didn't feel completely terrible. He took in a deep breath, put his phone in his pocket, and started walking back to the apartment.


	11. Chapter 11

Francis yawned and leaned against the kitchen counter. He glanced at the microwave timer. There were ten minutes left on the timer. He sighed. He didn't have enough time for a nap, but he had no idea what else to do while dinner was cooking. He paced around the kitchen a few times before wandering into living room. Arthur was laying on the couch with a book in his hand. Francis stood and watched him read. The subtle movements of Arthur's chest and eyes were somehow captivating. Every so often, he would show a hint of a smile. After a few minutes, he seemed to finally notice Francis. He glanced up from his book and asked,"You alright there?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry about that. I was just thinking," Francis said. Arthur grunted in response. He sat up and set the book in his lap. Francis sat down beside him with a long, exaggerated sigh. "I've just been so tired lately, you know? It's like no matter how much sleep I get, it's never enough. And whenever I stop to relax, I get all restless and just get up again." he said as he rested his head on Arthur's shoulder.

"That's a real shame. Any idea why it's happening?" Francis shook his head.

"Non, but it's probably some subconscious emotional thing. Not much I can do about it."

"Maybe you're lovesick," Arthur said. His tone was sarcastic, but he found himself hoping for a genuine response. Francis let out a short laugh.

"Hm, maybe. Or maybe it's because I'm not getting much business. Cutting hair has been a great way to relieve stress for me, but I've barely gotten any customers lately."

"Well, I could use a trim." Francis's eyes lit up. He jumped up and headed off to get his scissors.

"I'll give you the best trim you could ever ask for," he said. Arthur followed him to the bathroom.

"A normal trim will do just fine." Francis put on a fake pout. He took his scissors from the drawer and looked them over.

"Fine. Put that towel around your shoulders and come to the kitchen. The sink in there is much bigger." Arthur followed his orders. Francis put a chair in front of the sink and turned on the faucet. Arthur sat down and leaned his head back over the sink's basin. He sat still as Francis dampened his hair. After some combing and fussing, his blonde locks were ready to be cut. "How short do you want it?" Francis asked.

"Just do whatever you think will look good." With that, Francis began to cut. Hair fell onto the towel, floor and sink, but he barely paid any mind to that.

"After this, you'll be the most attractive bachelor on the block. Besides me, of course," he joked. Arthur rolled his eyes. He tried to think of a clever response, but his thoughts dissipated as a wave of comfort washed over him. He could feel Francis's fingers running through his hair. The feeling was familiar and relaxing, like a hug from a loved one. He closed his eyes.

"Alright, that should do it," Francis said. Arthur opened his eyes with a quite groan.

"Done already?" he asked.

"I figured you'd be happy to have it done so quickly."

"It's not like I'm unhappy, I just… I like the feeling of it, you know?" Francis gave him a knowing smile.

"I see. In that case, I think I can find a few more things to fix up." He put leaned in and began to massage Arthur's scalp. He moved his fingertips in circles while keeping his gaze on Arthur's face. That feeling of comfort began to return.

"You don't need to-" Arthur started.

"Don't worry about it, mon ami. Just relax." Arthur gave him one last look of hesitation before closing his eyes. His mind became nearly empty as Francis worked his magic. He felt as though he could fall asleep at any moment, but he didn't want to miss a second of the massage. Fingers brushed against his skin and combed through his hair at random, making him feel as though he were melting from the inside. After a few minutes of pure bliss, Arthur let one eye open.

"With skills like these, how have you not found a boyfriend yet?" he said without really thinking. Francis shrugged.

"Well, I do have my eye on a few people. Maybe one of them will realise what they're missing out on." He trailed his fingers down to the base of Arthur's neck and began to massage his shoulders.

"Oh, really? Anybody I would know?" asked Arthur.

"Gordon Ramsay," Francis deadpanned. Arthur covered his mouth to hide his laughter. The spell of relaxation had broken, but Arthur was too caught up in the conversion to care. "But seriously, I doubt you would know them," Francis said. After a bit of thought, he added, "Well, maybe you'd know one."

"Who?" asked Arthur. Francis looked down at him. His heart fluttered a bit, and he began to seriously consider what he was about to do. It would be reckless of him to act on his instincts, and the consequences of his actions would undoubtedly be huge. But, at the end of the day, Francis was a man of passion. He no longer wanted to keep his feelings to himself. He wanted to share the love he felt, even if it ended badly. He rested his hands on Arthur's shoulders and leaned in so that their faces were just centimeters apart.

"To be completely honest, you."

Arthur stared blankly at him. He figured he must have heard wrong. Why would Francis have feelings for him? It had to be a joke, right? He let out a bit of nervous laughter and said, "What's that supposed to mean?" Francis sighed and began to move away.

"I understand. It was silly of me to say that, especially so soon after your breakup," he said. It was then that reality set in for Arthur. His heart pounded and his palms began to sweat like a teenager who just had their first kiss. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Francis let go of his shoulders and turned to leave. "It's okay if you don't want to stay here anymore," he said. No. No, that wasn't right. Arthur stood up. His head was dizzy with emotion, and he couldn't manage to get out a single word, but he knew that he needed to act. He grabbed Francis by the shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug. Francis stared dead ahead, unable to process quite what was happening.

"I- I… Francis, I-" Arthur stuttered. He tried a few more times before finally giving up. "Oh, fuck it," he muttered before forcing a Francis into a passionate first kiss. He closed his eyes and held tightly onto his partner's shirt. Francis was shocked at first, but he was able to pull himself together enough to close his eyes and let it happen. The whole thing only lasted for a moment before Arthur broke away. "Do- do you get it?" he asked. Francis smiled and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist.

"I get it."


	12. Chapter 12

Matthieu sat on the bedroom floor with an empty juice box in his hand. Alfred was sprawled out beside him, doodling away on a sheet of printer paper. He drew only scribbles, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. "Hey Mattie," he said. "How come you're so quiet?" Matthieu shrugged.

"How come you're so loud?" he asked.

"'Cus it's fun, duh." Alfred rolled onto his back. "Ugh, when's dinner gonna be ready? I'm starving," he complained. Matthieu stood, grabbed his bear, and headed for the door.

"I'll go check," he said. Alfred jumped up and followed him down the hall. "Papa, when-" Matthieu started before abruptly stopping. Francis was leaning against the counter with his arms hooked around Arthur. They were deep into a kiss and too caught up in the moment to notice Alfred's look of disgust.

"Eww, cut that out!" Alfred said. He kicked his Dad in the leg. Arthur pulled away from Francis with a nervous laugh.

"Hey, no need to get violent now," he said. Francis chuckled and glanced at the timer. There were only a few seconds left.

"Ah, dinner should be ready about now. Why don't you kids wash up?" said Francis. Alfred groaned but complied. Matthieu, meanwhile, was petrified. He stood with his bear clutched to his chest and his mouth slightly open. Francis looked over at him and immediately knew that something was wrong. "Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?" he asked. Matthieu shook his head. Tears welled up in his eyes. Francis started to say something, only to be cut off by the alarm. Matthieu jumped and ran into the bedroom. Francis sighed and turned off the timer.

"Is he alright?" Arthur asked.

"I think he's just a bit afraid of change. I'm sure he'll be fine," Francis said. He took a tray of chicken nuggets from the oven and put some condiments on the table. "Would you be a dear and get everything set while I go talk to him?" he asked. Arthur nodded. Francis came down the hall and knocked on the bedroom door. There was no response at first, so he knocked again. This time, he heard Matthieu mumble something. "I'm coming in," he warned before opening the door. His son was on the bed with a blanket pulled over his head. His bear was right beside him, though he wasn't holding it. He started to cry louder as Francis came closer.

"S-stop it," he said. Francis stopped and knelt in front of the bed.

"I'm not going to hurt you, dear. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Well I'm n-not okay!"

"What's bothering you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"If it's making you this upset, I think it would be best to share it. Sometimes talking can make you feel a whole lot better."

"I guess." Matthieu sniffed. "B-but promise not to tell anyone, okay?"

"I promise." Matthieu hesitated for a bit longer. He grabbed onto his teddy's paw and squeezed.

"I don't want Arthur to leave us," he said softly.

"What do you mean? He won't be leaving anytime soon."

"But every time we get another Papa, they end up yelling and fighting and leaving. I'm tired of it." Francis sat in silence for a moment. He felt a lump rise in his throat, though he quickly swallowed it.

"Well, they just weren't the right people," he said.

"Is Arthur the right person?" Francis thought for a moment. He wanted to comfort his son, but he didn't want to say anything he could regret later. After all, there was no telling what the future had in store.

"We'll have to see, but I think he might be. Now come get some dinner. I breaded the chicken myself tonight." Matthieu sat up and wiped his eyes.

"Okay, Papa," he said. With that, he climbed out of bed and went off to the kitchen. Francis stayed behind for a moment. Matthieu was probably just overreacting, and yet his words seemed to really hit home. Francis almost felt like crying, but he managed to push away his negative feelings. He stood up, took a deep breath, and made his way to the kitchen.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur assumed that dating Francis would be pretty much the same as his previous relationships. He was used to scheduled dates, little to no sex, and keeping things clean around Alfred. But Francis seemed determined to break every expectation he had. Their first date had no planning involved. Francis was simply in the mood for a night out, so he payed a neighbor to babysit and went walking with Arthur until midnight. Just two days later, Francis closed the salon early to take Arthur to lunch. Afterwards, they window shopped until they had to pick the kids up from school. Eventually, so many of these sudden dates went by that it started to feel normal. Alfred sometimes got fussy about not getting enough time with Arthur, but a cookie and a half-hour coloring session was enough to cheer him back up.

Just as Arthur was starting to get comfortable, Francis got touchy. He would often grab Arthur's ass or pull him into a kiss, even if the kids were in the room. Alfred protested, this as well, though Matthieu wasn't bothered. Arthur would sometimes warn Francis not to be so flirty, though he secretly loved the attention.

As for sex, they hadn't actually slept together yet. They had plenty of heated make-out sessions, but they didn't go further than that. Francis made a few comments about wanting to have sex, though Arthur always responded with nervous laughter. In truth, Arthur was afraid of making the relationship awkward. He loved being with Francis, and he wanted everything to stay as predictably hectic as it was. But not all good things can last.

It had been three months since the confession. Arthur had just come home from work and was napping on the couch. Francis was preparing beef stew for dinner. He was in the middle of chopping carrots when he heard a knock at the door. "I'll get it," he called. He set down his knife and approached the front door. Whoever was outside knocked again. "Patience, dear," Francis said. He unlocked and open the door. Kiku was standing in the doorway, his hands clasped tightly and his expression unreadable.

"Hello. Is Arthur Kirkland home?" he asked. Francis nodded.

"Yes, but he's sleeping, and I'd hate to wake him."

"I see. Then, if you don't mind me asking, who are you?" Kiku's eyes were not on Francis and instead stared into the apartment.

"I'm Francis, his partner." Kiku flinched. "Something wrong?" Francis asked.

"I didn't expect him to have a new partner so fast," Kiku said. He sounded disappointed, though his face still had no trace of emotion. Francis narrowed his eyes.

"Who are you, exactly?" he asked.

"I'm Kiku Honda. I was hoping to have a talk with Arthur, but… I think I'll come back some other time." Kiku walked away without another word. As Francis shut the door, he thought he could hear the sound of distant, muffled sobbing.

All was quiet in the apartment. Arthur was flipping through TV channels, Francis was doing dishes, and the kids were fast asleep. Despite the quiet, or perhaps because of it, Francis couldn't help but think about the visitor. That man had seemed so determined in seeing Arthur, and yet he left without protest after hearing who Francis was. Francis set down his sponge with a sigh. "Hey, do you know anybody called Kiku Honda?" he asked. Arthur set down the remote.

"Yeah, he's the guy I was dating when we met. Why do you ask?" he said.

"He came by while you were napping. I think he wanted to talk with you, but he left so suddenly that I couldn't find out what his deal was." Francis tried to sound casual, but the more he thought about the situation, the more he worried. Arthur groaned and paused the TV.

"I guess that means I'll have to talk to him. Christ, that guy… Why would want to see me, anyways?"

"Do you talk about all your exes like that?"

"Well, I don't have many. But I guess I'm a bit more harsh when he's involved. He did cheat on me, after all."

"Ah, fair enough." Francis picked up a towel and started to dry off the clean dishes. "He did seem a bit strange. I hope he's not planning on doing anything drastic," he said. Arthur waved his hand dismissively.

"He's harmless. I mean, it's pretty much impossible to understand what he's feeling unless he really trusts you, but he's harmless." Arthur chuckled to himself. "I probably just left something at his place." Francis nodded in agreement, though he still felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He set a dry plate on the counter.

"Just be careful, okay? I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Arthur replied. He turned off the TV, stood up and stretched. "I'll just give Kiku a call real quick, so that I don't forget." He went into the bedroom and shut the door. He had a bit of trouble remembering Kiku's number, but he managed to get it right anyways. Only seconds after he hit the call button, Kiku answered.

"Hello?" asked Kiku. He sounded a bit excited.

"Hey, it's Arthur. I heard you stopped by today," Arthur said. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes, but I think it would be better to tell you in person. Could you come over around noon tomorrow?"

"I guess. Are you sure you can't just tell me now, though?"

"I'm certain. I'm sorry to inconvenience you like this, but I must do this face-to-face." Arthur sighed.

"I'll see you then. Bye," he said. He then promptly hung up. He groaned and laid down, covering his eyes with his hands. He ran his palms down his face. "Why can't he just be clear for once," he mumbled to himself. He felt like he was back in high school, caught in some drama web. How was he supposed to explain this to Francis? He couldn't expect Francis to be totally chill with the situation, but not saying anything would be much worse. He sighed and got up. "Francis, I need to talk with you for a sec," he called.

It was exactly noon when Arthur knocked on Kiku's door. He pushed his hand back into his pocket and waited. After a stretch of silence, he knocked again. "Come on, I don't have all day," he mumbled. The door's lock clicked, and it opened up.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me," Kiku said. He stepped aside. "Please, come in." Arthur took his shoes off and went in. Kiku shut the door behind him. "I'm sorry for the mess," he said. Arthur shrugged.

"It's fine. Better than my place," he said.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. We've got four people packed into that tiny space, so it can't be helped." Arthur set his shoes by the door.

"Four people? Does Francis have another roommate?" asked Kiku.

"He has a son. Real sweet kid. Just a little younger than Alfred."

"Oh, I see." Kiku sighed and sat down in an empty chair. "You sound like you're happy," he said.

"Yeah, it's nice. How about you?" Kiku laughed, though there was no joy in his voice.

"Look, Arthur, I must be honest with you. Life has been hell for me since you left. I won't go into specifics, but things certainly haven't been easy." He bowed his head. "I wanted to talk to you because I need you. I love you more than anything, and I just can't forget you. No matter what I do, I can't get you out of my head. Please, come back to me. I promise I'll be loyal, and I'll do anything you ask of me." He looked up at Arthur with pleading eyes. Arthur stared back. For a moment, he actually considered taking the offer, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He looked away.

"I'm sorry, but I can't be with you. I'm happy with Francis, and I'm sure you'll find somebody to be happy with." Kiku shook his head.

"You don't understand. I need to have you in my life. I'll make you ten times happier than Francis does. That's a promise."

"Look, I'm trying to be nice, but my answer is still no. Besides, love isn't about bargaining and dependency." Kilu stood up and grabbed Arthur by the hand.

"No, please, I-I think I can-" Arthur pulled back.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Tears streamed down Kiku's face. He looked completely broken and desperate too the point of being terrifying. Arthur took a step backwards.

"I'll change, I swear. Just let things go back to how they were," Kiku said. His voice was quiet and shaking. He got down on his knees and wept. "R-remember when we f-first kissed?" he said between sobs. Arthur nodded slowly. "I was so h-happy back then. Everything seemed so perfect," Kiku said. He wiped his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you." Arthur knelt down in front of him. He put his hand on Kiku's cheek.

"It was nice back then. I miss it sometimes, too," he admitted. A smile reached Kiku's tear-stained cheeks.

"We were so good together. We didn't have to talk to communicate our feelings; we just knew," he said. "It was a slow burn. Not very heated, but the kind of love that lasts." Arthur sighed. This was the most he'd ever heard Kiku speak.

"Right. But it couldn't last forever," he said solemnly.

"But maybe we could rekindle it," Kiku said.

"No, I think we should just-" Arthur's words were cut short by a kiss from Kiku. His soft lips pressed against Arthur's mouth with only the slightest amount of force. Arthur's eyes widened. It felt wrong. It felt so, so wrong. He was frozen solid, unable to move or think properly. Kiku wrapped his arms around Arthur's shoulders. His lips opened and- oh god, he was going so far so fast.

In a moment of panic, Arthur yelled, "Stop!" He pushed Kiku back and scrambled to his feet. Kiku stared up at him with a look of total shock. Arthur looked him dead in the eyes. "Don't ever come near me or my family again," he snapped. He grabbed his shoes and ran out the door, not once stopping to look back.


	14. Chapter 14

Dinner was halfway over by the time Arthur finally came home. He had spent hours walking aimlessly while the came to terms with what happened at Kiku's place. His hair was messed up from running, and his clothes were covered in dried sweat. He tried to make himself look a bit presentable before coming into the apartment, but he still looked rough. "I'm home," he called.

"Dad!" Alfred shouted. He came running and grabbed Arthur's leg. "Papa made pancakes, and they're so yummy! Mine's shaped like a dinosaur!" he said. Arthur smiled and knelt down to pat his head.

"That's great, sweetheart. Are there any left for me?" he said. Matthieu walked over. His head was down, and his bear was nowhere in sight.

"Uh, there's a few left, I think," he mumbled. Arthur thanked him, stood, and headed for the kitchen. Francis was sitting at the head of the table. He smiled at Arthur but said nothing. A spread of pancakes, fresh fruit, and sugars and syrups of all sorts sat on the table. Alfred's plate had one giant pancake that was in the rough shape of a T-rex while Matthieu had a few silver dollar pancakes. Alfred sat down and started tearing into the T-rex's head with his bear hands. Arthur went to sit down, only to find that Matthieu's bear was in the empty chair. Arthur smiled and picked it up.

"Awe, was he keeping my seat warm for me?" he asked. Matthieu nodded and held out his hands. Arthur gave him the bear and sat down. "Thank you very much, Mr. Bear," he said.

"His name's Kuma- kumama- ku- uh…" Matthieu stammered. "Darn, I forgot again." Arthur held back a chuckle.

"Well, I'm sure he doesn't mind. Now get eating. Francis put a lot of work into this meal," Arthur said. Matthieu was quick to comply.

"Oh, most of the trouble was in the shopping. Pancakes are easy," Francis said. "Well, at least for me. You might need some practice, still," he teased. Arthur rolled his eyes. He took three pancakes and coated them in fruit and powdered sugar. After a few bites, he started to eat faster and faster until the whole plate was cleared. He wiped his face and started serving himself seconds. "My, aren't you hungry," Francis commented.

"Well, I got a lot of exercise today," Arthur replied.

"I see." Francis stood up and put his empty plate in the sink. "Could you handle cleanup tonight? I think I need a nap." Francis walked off without bothering to hear the answer. Arthur felt a bit of concern, but eating was his main focus. After finishing his food, he sent the kids off to bed and started to clear the table. He set the dishes in the sink, ate the leftovers, and put away the toppings. Wiping the syrup globs off the table was difficult, but he managed to get it done. He filled the sink with water, but he only scrubbed about half of them before getting tired.

"Well, I think I've earned myself a nap, anyways," he said to himself. He dried his hands and headed for the bedroom. He opened the door and found that the room was totally dark. Francis was curled up on the bed. His eyes were wide open and slightly puffy. Arthur took a step towards him. "You alright?" he asked. Francis sat up slowly. He sighed and shook his head slightly.

"I'm fine. Just some silly little thought," he said. "Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I just… I got a little worried about you." Arthur shut the door and sat down beside him. He took him by the hand and leaned against him.

"I'm alright, love. I just need a bit of sleep," he said. Francis kissed his cheek.

"Alright. Just let me know if you need anything, alright?" Arthur nodded, laid down, and closed his eyes. He felt Francis get out of bed, but he was too tired to go after him.

Francis sat on the couch with his head in his hands. He felt sick to his stomach, though he had no fever. Arthur had gotten out of work a few hours ago, but he still wasn't home. This was the fourth time this month that Arthur was inexplicably late. He was always sweaty when he came back, and his hair was usually matted. Every time Francis asked what happened, he said that he had just had a jog. But Francis didn't believe a word of it. Ever since Arthur met with Kiku, Francis had a sinking suspicion that Arthur wasn't loyal. The matted hair, the sweat, and the ruffled clothes were all indicators that Arthur was sleeping with somebody else. No matter how much Francis wanted to believe otherwise, he just couldn't ignore the facts.

The apartment door opened. "I'm home," Arthur called as he stepped inside.

Francis looked up at him. He let out a long, heavy sigh before saying simply, "Close the door. We need to talk."

Arthur felt his stomach churn. He closed the door and dragged the nearest empty chair in front of the couch.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He tried to make eye-contact with Francis, but Francis refused to look at him.

"What happened while you were with Kiku?"

"Nothing," Arthur insisted. "We just had a talk. Everything's fine."

"Tell me the truth."

"What do you mean?" Francis shot him a look that sent a shiver down his spine.

"I'll give you one more chance to tell the truth." Francis was starting to sound irritated, though he did his best to hide it. Arthur sighed and looked down at the floor.

"Kiku wanted to get back together with me. I tried to tell him I wasn't interested, but he just wouldn't get it. He started getting all upset, and I just wanted to make him feel a little better…" He started to fidget nervously with his hands. Sweat was forming on his brow. "And then he kissed me," he finished.

"Did you sleep with him?" Francis asked. Arthur's eyes got wide. He looked up at Francis, meeting his eyes at last. The reality of the situation finally set in.

"What?" was all he could manage to say.

"You heard me."

"Why would I do that? Francis, you know I would never-"

Francis snapped, "Then why do you come home looking like _that_?"

"I've been going on jogs to clear my head. Trust me, cheating is the last thing on my mind."

"I wish I could believe you. I really do. But it just doesn't add up." Arthur started to panic. He couldn't lose anybody else, let alone Francis. He reached out his hand to touch Francis's shoulder.

"T-this is just a big misunderstanding. I love you so, so much." Francis stood and headed for the bedroom.

"I'm sorry, I just- I just need some time to think," he said. He paused for a moment before adding, "Maybe you should sleep on the couch tonight."


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur watched with wide eyes as Francis opened up the bedroom door. This couldn't really be happening. There was no way he could get any sleep unless he resolved this. "No," he said. "No, we have to talk about this, We can make this right." He stepped forward and took Francis by the hand. "I don't want to sleep on the couch. I want to be with you, and only you." Francis took a step back. He bit his lower lip and looked away.

"Arthur, I just- I don't know," he said.

"Don't know what?"

"I honestly don't know if you're telling the truth anymore."

"I wouldn't just lie to you like that. I love you more than anyone," Arthur insisted. He was starting to get frustrated, and it showed. His hands were in light fists, and his brow was furrowed. "Why can't you see that?"

"If you love me so much, then why don't you show it sometime?" Francis snapped. Arthur sat in stunned silence for a moment. His hands relaxed, and his mind went blank. Francis continued, "You've barely touched me at all this past month. You never look at me during conversation, and you rarely do more than grunt when we talk. Every time I try to spice things up with a dirty joke, you act like I'm disgusting. I know you aren't a prude or saving yourself for marriage, so why don't you want to make love to me? Are you just not attracted to me? Is that it?" Francis looked about ready to cry. He sighed shakily and put his hand to his forehead. He shook his head and said, "I- I'm sorry. That was rude of me." Arthur took a step towards him.

"I never knew you felt that way," Arthur said. He took Francis's face in his hands and wiped his tears. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just afraid of messing things up, I guess. It sounds silly now that I'm saying it out loud, but it's the truth." He started to tear up. "We have something really special, and I've never felt this strongly about somebody before. I'm so, so sorry for making you feel like shit. I never wanted to hurt you." Tears ran down his cheeks. "Please don't leave me," he whispered. Francis hugged him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere, mon amour," he said. Arthur clung to him with all the strength he could muster and sobbed into his shoulder. Francis rocked from side to side and patted his back until he calmed down. "I love you, and there's not much you can do that would change my mind," he said.

"I love you, too," he said. He gave Francis a kiss on the lips. Francis closed his eyes and kissed back. He pressed himself as close to Arthur as he could manage. There was no resentment or pain in his heart; all he could feel was an overwhelming passion. In that moment, Arthur was the most important person in the world. He put his hands up Arthur's shirt and gently squeezed his sides. Arthur let out a giggle and pulled back slightly.

"Are you ticklish, mon amour?" Francis asked.

"No. I just thought of something funny," Arthur lied.

"You really do have a nasty habit of lying," Francis said. Tough he talked playfully, there was some truth to his words. He tickled Arthur's stomach. Arthur laughed and grabbed onto Francis's shoulders for support. "C-cut that out," he said, though his words were drowned out by giggles.

"You're so cute when you laugh. It makes me wonder why I ever get mad at you," Francis said. Arthur squirmed a bit, but it was just for show.

"This is so childish," he said through his laughter.

"I'll stop if you really want me to," Francis offered. Arthur hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to admit he actually liked doing something so stupid, but he also didn't want it to stop. Before he could answer, Alfred gave him a kick to the shin.

"Stop being so weird!" he whined. Arthur broke away from Francis with a sigh. Once again, reality was here to ruin a moment. He crossed his arms and looked down at Alfred.

"You should be in bed," he said.

"Yeah, but Mattie wanted water, and he didn't wanna go alone, so I figure I'm doin' the right thing," said Alfred. Matthieu peaked out from behind him. He glanced up at his Papa with guilt in his eyes.

"Sorry to bother you," he said.

"It's fine. Now, do you want ice in that water?" Francis said as he headed for the kitchen. Matthieu shook his head. He toddled after his father. Francis poured a glass of cold water and handed it to Matthieu. "There you go. Sweet dreams, dear," he said.

"Goodnight," Matthieu replied. He hurried off to bed, nearly spilling his water in the process. Alfred waited until he was out of sight before looking up at his Dad.

"So, what do I get for being good?" he asked.

"A good night's rest," Arthur replied. Alfred whined, though it got him nowhere. "Come on, a little sleep won't kill you," said Arthur. Alfred pouted and crossed his arms. His tiny cheeks were puffed out, and his brows furrowed in the cutest way possible.

"No fair," he said. Francis came up behind him and patted his head.

"Maybe if you go to bed nice and quietly, you'll get a treat in the morning," he said.

"What kinda treat?"

"Pancakes." Seconds later, Alfred was lying peacefully in bed. Francis chuckled. "Works every time," he said. He put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. He leaned in close so that his lips were right by Arthur's ear. "What's my treat for being such a good parent?"

"You get a good night's rest, too." Arthur said. Francis kissed him on the cheek.

"As long as I get to spend it with you, it will be a treat."

"You really don't stay mad for long, do you? I mean, we just had this fight, and now you've gone right back to flirting."

"To be fair, you didn't do much wrong. I mean, you were a bit stupid, but so was I. I can't be mad at you for that. I see no reason why I shouldn't be romantic." Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"I really am lucky to have such a loving idiot for a partner," he teased.

"And I am so lucky to have a rude little dork like you."


	16. Epilogue

"Oh, you look so cute in that suit," Francis said as he adjusted Matthieu's tie. He kissed his cheek and added, "You really did inherit my excellent fashion sense." Matthieu let out a nervous laugh and took a step back.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not a kid anymore," he said.

"Don't say that! It makes me feel so old." Francis sighed and shook his head. He looked over at Arthur. "I'm not old, right?" Arthur smiled a bit and put a hand on Francis's shoulder.

"You're practically dust already, dear," he said. Francis laughed.

"Well, you're not much better," he teased. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Regardless, this is Matthieu's day. Let's save the insults for later." He stepped away from Francis to stand in front of Matthieu. He looked up and met his eyes. "You know, I was about your age when I met your father. Back then, I didn't think he would be more than a hairdresser to me. I didn't even know if I would see him again. But one thing lead to another, and the next thing I know we're roommates. It all happened so fast; I didn't know what to make of it. But I loved it nonetheless. It was the same way with you. I barely knew you, but you were suddenly my family. I'd just barely gotten used to having Alfred around, and then I had a second kid to deal with…" He chuckled and shook his head. "Nothing made sense. But I knew one thing for certain: I loved you. No matter what happens, no matter how clueless I may be, you'll always be my son." Matthieu wiped away a tear. He pulled Arthur into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Papa," he said. Arthur patted his back. He pulled back and looked his son dead in the eyes.

"Now, you've got to promise me one thing," he said.

"What?"

"You've got to promise that you won't go and forget about me just because you're married. I want at least three visits a year, young man." Matthieu laughed.

"I promise I won't forget you."

"Good." Arthur turned to Francis. "Anything you want to add, dear?"

"You stole my thunder. How am I supposed to top that?" Francis said. He sighed and added, "I guess I do have one bit of advice. Don't be afraid to speak up and stand out. You're a wonderful person, and I don't want that to go unnoticed." He kisses Matthieu's cheek. "Well, I think we've kept you long enough. Your prince charming is waiting," he said. Arthur crossed his arms.

"Prince? There's nothing royal about that little-" Arthur stopped himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, old habits die hard. Just go and be happy, okay?" Matthieu nodded, thanked them both, and left.

"I suppose we should take our seats. The ceremony will be starting soon," Francis said.

"Yeah," Arthur said absently. "God, this is really happening, isn't it?" Francis smiled and took Arthur's hand. He squeezed gently.

"I can't believe it, either. But that doesn't matter right now. All we can do is be there for our son. Now, let's hurry before the good seats fill up."

After the ceremony, a small group of family and close friends gathered at Matthieu's house. They drank cheap alcohol, ate the finest of grocery store cakes, and told stories from times long past. Francis nursed a glass of red wine as he mingled. Most of the memories he shared were about Arthur's failed meals or Matthieu's brief, intense goth period. Arthur smiled and nodded along, though his mind was elsewhere. He glanced over at the corner where Alfred was standing. Alfred's arms were folded, and his back was against the wall. It was unlike him to be so antisocial, though Arthur wasn't exactly surprised. Arthur stood up, grabbed two beers, and headed towards him.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Whatever. Just don't try and make me get all social or something," Alfred said. Arthur handed him a beer and leaned against the wall. Alfred thanked him. He popped the cap off and took a long drink that emptied a fourth of the bottle. "Wow, this stuff tastes terrible," he said.

"Yeah, it's bad. But it was the groom's choice," said Arthur. "Speaking of grooms, any idea where the happy couple went?"

"Matt's over by the snacks, but I don't know where Gilbert is. He snuck off a while ago." Alfred took another swig. "I hope he's getting better beer. But, knowing him, he's probably doing something shady." Arthur sighed.

"Hey, let's try to be nice. I know that guy's irritating, but he's still family."

"I guess. At least he's nice to Matt."

"That's all we can really ask for, isn't it?"

"Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Arthur chuckled to himself.

"When did you get so rude?"

"Well, I learned from the best." Alfred grinned for the first time that evening.

"Oh, bugger off. Like you paid any attention to anything I taught you," Arthur replied. Alfred laughed and put his hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"See, that kind of humor is why you're my second favorite dad," he said. Arthur chuckled and rolled his eyes. Alfred added, "Nah, but seriously, I love ya. Thanks for cheering me up."

"Well, that is my job." The pair laughed again. Alfred gave his father one last grin before he wandered off towards the snacks. Arthur gulped down the rest of his drink and went to join Francis.

Author's note: Thank you all for reading. I'm afraid this will be the end of this story. I didn't know how to end it properly, but I hope you enjoy this final installment anyways. It's been a wild ride, and I'm so thankful to have shared it with you.


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